Alternate Solutions

During this consideration, also came into my head another solution, namely the eventuality of buying off someone competent from the circles of the military or medicine, to unofficially arrange my official removal from the military file.

This was also quite risky, because frankly speaking, in military circles I did not have any, and I mean any contacts, because in this time in the officer cadre there were, if I were to formulate this most succinctly, flunkies, hurriedly schooled lumpenproletariat simpletons or some suspicious communizing renegades.

For sure this was not an elegant crowd, not the kind of which I always tried to be. Were left for me still the medical circles, a crowd very different from the officer circle.

Normally they were all very cultured, primarily still with pre-war professional and social tenure. In this town most of them came from Lwow, and as was known, Lwowians were always the merriest, most non-confrontational and entertaining people.

Because I was healthy as a horse, also in this surrounding I did not have many connections. Maybe I bowed for a few sports doctors, with whom I interacted, but really these were not my colleagues. I didn’t even know well what their names were and if they didn’t happen to be members of the party.

One exception was a certain doctor, whose son, Andrew, in a certain sense I befriended.

Prematurely widowed, or maybe dumped by his wife, never on this topic did they say anything, Andrew’s father, who did relatively well for himself, worked very hard, and to this led a very social lifestyle. In his fairly large house there were constantly some invitationals and fairly often there were organized bridge parties, where usually were played three, and sometimes even four, tables. 

These things happened mostly on Saturdays or before holidays, and could end even on the evening of the next day. The average age of the players was always well over fifty years, but invited there were evenly the friends of the father and of the son. 

They played for money, but the pots were rather symbolic Always after a relatively early and relatively quick supper everyone who wanted to play that night pulled a single card from the tally. Aces counted as ones and according to this, whatever card they drew, they were sat at the tables. The greatest joy came from playing with the older gentlemen. 

One of them to this day I remember. He was a numismatist and in his numismatic interests often he came from the coast. His name was Anton Domaradzki and in his youth he fulfilled the function of an adjutant of the general Lucjan Żeligowski during his famous siege of Kowno. 

Il professore di numismatico played very well, and to this also constantly dropped great bridge quips, such like, for example, “kibicien sztill zitzen,” and already always, when he played no trump with one carefully drawn out color, the so called longer, and in this long color, brazenly playing card after card, where often on his threes and deuces, fell already worked out kings, queens, and sometimes even aces, he always reliably turned to one of his contra-partners: “Has du you see, the Polish army’s full of robbers.” 

The second such character was one Spishak, representing now the younger generation. He was a very big guy with a very manly nature. He spoke great English with an American accent, which really counted back then, and he knew his jazz pretty well. 

He lived in Warsaw, but because his girlfriend studied in this place, he often came and could stay for weeks, the whole time delectating himself on the music from the station for American soldiers, which in the eastern placed national capital was practically in no way possible to catch. 

His girlfriend was a very light blonde, something like the type of Marilyn Monroe. When sometimes something didn’t work out with the cards played, then he stood, caught her by the back of the head and with the words, “you white bimbo” pretended to bang her pretty face on the surface of the bridge table, which always evoked a certain shock and mixed feelings among the people watching the spectacle for the first time. 

He improved little my opinion about the residents of Warsaw, who for many reasons I considered boors, like nowhere else shameless, brazenly and compulsively carrying on in their boorishness. I knew that before the war these people definitely didn’t live in the capital. 

Now however I associated it always with them as well as also with the unsuccessful and very unnerving attempt to get to the legendary in those times information center at the American embassy. This building, non-stop very conscientiously and exactly blocked off by the UB, of which I was made repeatedly aware, was practically impenetrable.

The next day I arranged by telephone to meet with Andrew, who for quite a long time I hadn’t seen. I told him that in half an hour I’ll be waiting for him in my car under his house for a very important matter. 

My Mercedes caught his eyes, because as I remember, they had then an East German, of course produced post-war, two-cylinder Ifa in the color of vomit, the so-called sheet metaller, imported in a small number and distributed among miners, but only to the forerunners of work, as well as to doctors. I told him about my problems and added that I am able to pay well. 

He promised as quickly as possible to speak with his father and when only something on this topic he would find out, then he’d contact me, and then we’d meet, because for sure it wouldn’t be a conversation for telephone. 

Suddenly my next possibilities began to draw up before me. In the meantime the patron saint of the miners, who each day I could not get over, appeared as if from underground. Many times I picked up the telephone receiver, to dial her number and after hearing her voice to tell her how much I love her and how much I miss her, but healthy reason enjoined me not to do this, but only to keep waiting. 

Because of my cultivation of discipline I had now many more activities, because at this time of year there were always many competitions and tournaments. I went also systematically to Plebanczyk and to the pool, but I most enjoyed sitting at home and drawing. 

I made illustrations and created as usual comics as well as stupid joke drawings for different magazines and newspapers. On the table I had piles of paper, on the side two screwed in adjustable lamps with very strong light, a liter bottle of black ink, a cubic crystal inkwell as well as the most important thing—an awesome radio, which was able to catch many Western radio stations with very good jazz. 

At least once a day I drove somewhere in the car that wasn’t mine, of which, nevertheless, being what it was, I blithely disposed myself. I drove here, there, aiming always to drive by the marketplace, but the patron saint still as I didn’t see, I didn’t see. I decided that if to that time I didn’t meet her, I would telephone the day of her name, which was only a few days away. Not rarely, like a psychopath, I passed the time checking my cash resources. 

There was a lot of it. In a certain sense I didn’t orient myself exactly how much, because I somehow was never able from the start to the end to count it. 

Besides Nowobogacky, and in part Bronco, no one had any clue that I had such a gigantic sum. I did not intend however at all to change my lifestyle because of this. The fact that in my pockets I had now a little more cash on hand, it didn’t mean anything, because always from time to time I had those fat days or weeks.